going to give it to yu because I don't want anybody to say
that any of th' Bar-20 ever murdered a man, not even a skunk like yu.
My friends have treated me too square for that. Yu can take this gun an
yu can do one of three things with it, which are: walk out in th' open
a hundred paces an' then turn an walk toward me--after you face me yu can
set it a-going whenever yu want to; the second is, put it under yore hat
an' I'll put mine an' th' others back by the cayuses. Then we'll toss
up an' th' lucky man gets it to use as he wants. Th' third is, shoot
yourself."

Mr. Cassidy punctuated the close of his ultimatum by handing the weapon,
muzzle first, and, because the other might be an adept at "twirling,"
he kept its recipient covered during the operation. Then, placing his
second Colt's with the captured weapons, he threw them through the door,
being very careful not to lose the drop on his now armed prisoner.

Mr. Travennes looked around and wiped the sweat from his forehead, and
being an observant gentleman, took the proffered weapon and walked to
the east, directly toward the sun, which at this time was halfway to the
meridian. The glare of its straight rays and those reflected from the
shining sand would, in a measure, bother Mr. Cassidy and interfere with
the accuracy of his aim, and he was always thankful for small favors.

Mr. Travennes was the possessor of accurate knowledge regarding the lay
of the land, and the thought came to him that there was a small but deep
hole out toward the east and that it was about the required distance
away. This had been dug by a man who had labored all day in the burning
sun to make an oven so that he could cook mesquite root in the manner
he had seen the Apaches cook it. Mr. Travennes blessed hobbies, specific
and general, stumbled thoughtlessly and disappeared from sight as the
surprised Mr. Cassidy started forward to offer his assistance.

Upon emphatic notification from the man in the hole that his help was
not needed, Mr. Cassidy wheeled around and in great haste covered the
distance separating him from the hut, whereupon Mr. Travennes swore
in self-congratulation and regret. Mr. Cassidy's shots barked a cactus
which leaned near Mr. Travennes' head and flecked several clouds of
alkali near that person's nose, causing him to sneeze, duck, and grin.

"It's his own gun," grumbled Mr. Cassidy as a bullet passed through his
sombrero, having in mind the fact that his opponent had